Hearts Never Lie
by Juliette-Aurora
Summary: Can the ending of his music of the night bloom into the beginning of a beautiful serenade?
1. Prologue

CHRISTINE

 _ **Share each day with me, each night, each morning**_

My heart broke for the first time as I stole my very last glimpse of him. Raoul and I were free, yes, but he never would be. His face, that precious deformity, would forever haunt him every time he looked into a mirror. He was staring blankly back at me with something I never noticed before. He was no longer the Phantom I once feared. He was, simply, just a man that had an eternal fate with darkness.

I turned forward to the lake in front of us. I soon heard the Phantom's cries ring into the air along with the sound of breaking glass. My chest soon felt heavy, and I tightened my grip on Raoul's shoulder.

"Don't worry, Little Lotte," he whispered to me. "He can't hurt us anymore."

My hand was still damp from the man's tears. They were not fake tears nor tears of sadness. I wanted to believe that these were tears of happiness. After all, his deformity had been accepted. Wasn't that what he wanted all along?

There was no more that could be done, nothing except look ahead to the future with the one I truly loved: Raoul, the one I chose over my supposed Angel of Music.

PHANTOM

 ** _You alone can make my song take flight_**

It pained me to see her go, but what choice did I have? Her eyes had said it all. She didn't love me, and she never would. If she were confined to me, she wouldn't have had the true happiness Raoul could offer her, and her beauty and talent would have been shunned from the world. Yes, it's true. I loved Christine, and I did all of those things. For her.

 _I let her go because I love her._

I watched them as they glided across the water with my boat and was shocked to find her child-like eyes looking back at me. My hand flew to the deformed side of my face, the same side she touched so softly as she kissed me. My fingertips then grazed my lips. In that moment, our moment, she acknowledged me not as a monster but as the person I had been hiding for so long. She accepted my disfigurement, and because of that, I was satisfied.

And yet...

They disappeared behind a column, and I immediately felt empty. I peered down at the ring, her ring, in my hand. I held onto it securely with no intent of letting it go. My only memory of her, my Christine.

I made my way to the mirrors and grabbed a piece of a broken candelabra. The mob's chants were coming closer.

 ** _It's over now, the music of the night!_**

I smashed the poor object with all the strength I had left. The glass shattered all over the ground in two hits: one for guilt, and one for rage. I did the same to the second, but this time for eternal loneliness and pain. I came to the third and lifted the red velvet curtain. I paused, examining myself. I was so... appalling. And without further hesitation, I crashed the golden stick into the hard surface, striking away the suffering I had put her through until my reflection was no longer visible. In its place stood a long, dark pathway. I turned and looked around at my lair, my home for over half my life. Now, it held no meaning to me. I stepped into the broken mirror and closed the curtain behind me, leaving the facade I lived under behind. All of those things were just mere objects that could be replaced. There was only one Christine Daae.

A life without her was nothing at all.


	2. 2 months later

2 months later...


	3. 1 CHRISTINE

I sat on the balcony and looked out over London. It was such a beautiful city; Raoul knew me well when he chose to settle down here. I peered down at my crimson dress and smoothed out the wrinkles. The sun was starting to set, and I remembered. I closed my eyes. Oh, how I remembered.

 _Crimson. The color of blood. Him._

How could I forget? Red was his signature color, also representing the blood he had shed. My hands began to tremble as I pictured Raoul tied up against that iron gate, so close to death because of me. I clasped them together tightly. Two months... Fear still lingered, nightmares had been torture, and I was forever reminded of my encounter with the Phantom of the Opera.

I'd never forget that night, our final goodbye. If he had kept me, would it had been as bad as it seemed? Would he had remained the horrifying murderer I loathed? Or would he have loved me with the affection his bright green eyes showed me?

Footsteps approached me from behind, then a hand rested on my shoulder. My eyes shot open.

"Guess who," a familiar voice whispered into my ear, and all my thoughts suddenly disappeared.

I sighed. "Raoul."

I turned around and there my husband stood, a smile plastered on his face. I rose from the chair and hugged him. "I wasn't expecting you back until later."

"Why were you crying?" He ignored my statement, his face now turned into a worried expression.

"What are you talking about? I-"

That's when I felt them, the tears on my cheeks. I didn't notice until now. I immediately wiped them away with the back of my hand.

"So," I said, trying to change the subject, "how was your day?"

Raoul peered down at me intently, still waiting for my answer. I lowered my head and started fiddling with my dress. After a few seconds, he tilted my head to meet his gaze.

"You were thinking about him again, weren't you?"

I nodded. I could feel my heart racing. What if he had taken it the wrong way?

"Little Lotte.."

He then kissed my lips softly, and the tears that had formed in my eyes disappeared. He leaned back and cupped my face in his hands as he sang to me:

 _ **There is nothing left to fear**_

 _ **Don't you worry, I am here**_

 _ **Speak to me**_

 _ **Lean on me**_

 _ **It will be fine, don't you see?**_

 _ **There is nothing left to fear**_

 _ **I am by your side, my dear**_

 _ **Keeping you warm**_

 _ **From every storm**_

 _ **Watch, it will transform you**_

 _ **There is nothing left to fear**_

 _ **This is simply very clear**_

 _ **Trust in me**_

 _ **Count on me**_

 _ **Oh Christine, don't you see?**_

Raoul sealed his words with a passionate kiss, feeling just like the first time. I wrapped my arms around his neck and brought myself closer to him. We separated and stared lovingly into each other's eyes.

 _ **Say you love me**_

He grazed my cheek with his thumb and smiled.

 _ **You know I do**_

I giggled and went in for another kiss just as someone knocked on the door. Raoul stepped aside and ran down the staircase to answer it.

"Why, Monsieur Andre!" He exclaimed in surprise. "Come in, come in, please."

My former manager stepped in, but it took me a minute to realize it was actually him. The opera house fire had taken a toll on him since his as well as Monsieur Firmin's reputation were ruined by the events of that night. It seemed as if he had lost much of his hair since the last time I saw him, and dark rings settled underneath his eyes, which were not the cheerful blue they once were. From the looks of it, Andre looked as if he had seen a ghost. A real one, of course.

I made my way to the kitchen and poured boiling hot water into a tea kettle. He laid his coat on one of the dining room chairs and sat down quietly. I dropped a few tea leaves into the liquid and waited a few seconds before adding another layer of warm water.

"Would you like some tea, Monsieur?" I offered, but he declined with a simple shake of his head.

Raoul quickly closed the door and took a seat next to him. I poured my cup and sat down at the opposite end of the table.

"Andre?" Raoul questioned firmly. "What is it? What's wrong?"

He let out a deep breath and turned his attention to me. "Monsieur Firmin... is dead."

I paused mid-sip, and I exchanged glances with Raoul, who appeared as shocked as I was when the words were out in the open.

"What do you mean he's dead?"

Andre's voice shook as he spoke. "Found hanged in his home. S-suicide..." He choked out the last word.

My mind went straight to the Phantom, and my eyes widened remembering his other victims: Joseph Bouquet, Piangi. All out of anger. Could he be responsible for Fermin as well?

"No..." I breathed just as the cup in my hand slipped, shattering into tiny pieces. I just stared down at the mess in the floor, frozen in my spot.

"Christine?"

I blinked at the sound of my name, only to find two pairs of eyes staring at me from the other end. Nothing escaped from my mouth as I remained frigid. I saw Raoul's jaw tense up; he knew something was wrong.

I pushed myself from the table. "Excuse me," I said politely before rushing away from the scene.

I ran up the wooden stairs and made it to our master bedroom. I opened the doors to the balcony, and a cool zephyr met my warm face. I stepped to the edge and held on to the black railing so tightly that my knuckles were turning white. I fought hard to keep my tears from falling. Just when everything was beginning to go back to normal, that man slowly started making his way back into my life without even realizing it. I plopped down onto a chair and buried my face in my hands. I was more trapped now than I ever had been.

 _ **He's always been there singing songs in my head**_

 _ **He's never left and won't, even when I'm dead**_

 _ **Why does my mind still play that never-ending verse?**_

London's lights lit up the horizon. I then stared up into the sky. It was illuminated by the moonlight, and the sparkling stars completed the night's beauty. I let out a deep breath.

 _ **But my spirit starts to soar when I hear his name**_

 _ **My thoughts and my heart are not the same**_

 _ **How can I break free from this curse?**_

I closed my eyes and clasped my hands together.

"Her father promised her that even in death, he would help her," I whispered into the air. "Please, give your little girl the strength she needs to get through this."

I stood from the chair and made my way down to the kitchen to find the door cracked open. I leaned against the wall and peeked inside. Raoul was standing over the table, his head in his hands. Papers were scattered in front of him. Monsieur Andre tried to explain something to him, but I couldn't decipher what was going on. I leaned in closer but accidentally caused the door to creak. Both men peered up at me in surprise.

"Christine.." Raoul walked over to me and opened the door, allowing me to step inside. He pulled up a chair. "You should have a seat."

I took his offer and sat next to him. I looked down at the papers on the table, all which had signatures and the words 'Opera Populaire' printed across the top. I spotted Raoul's splotched name on a line at the bottom of the first page.

"What is this?" I asked. I lifted my head up to meet Andre's gaze. "Am I missing something here?"

Andre coughed into his hand before speaking. "I have come to offer full ownership of the opera house to your husband, since he is still the patron." He paused and turned to him. "He has accepted my request."

I swear my heart stopped at his words. So _this_ was the main reason he came all the way to London! If it had not been a business matter, we would have learned of Firmin's death through a letter instead. Men and their tactics.

"And?"

This is when Raoul stepped in. "The damages from the fire are too much to be repaired. According to Monsieur Andre, parts of the roof have started to collapse, the chandelier is in pieces, and not a seat in the entire place remained untouched by the flames." He breathed in deeply. "There's really nothing we can do with the opera house."

This didn't make any sense. "Why claim it, then, if you don't want to repair it?"

Raoul hesitated, refusing to look at me as he responded. "I plan to build something new in its place."

As soon as he said it, I immediately regretted asking. The place I had called home for so many years, condemned? I couldn't believe it, nor did I want to. The stage where my talent was discovered by all of France, the dressing room Raoul and I reunited in, the rooftop where we confessed our love. Everything that meant something to me would be gone forever.

I could feel the tears already forming in my eyes, and I shook my head vigorously. "No.. I won't let you, Raoul."

My husband laid a hand on top of mine, trying to reach out to my pain. I jerked away and stood in a nearby corner. How dare he automatically assume I would be okay with this! I wouldn't be able to forgive Raoul or myself. After all, the Opera Populaire was filled with so many memories with Meg, Madame Giry, Raoul, the Phantom.

Suddenly, an arm wrapped around my shoulders. Raoul was now at my side, a look of disappointment on his face. As mad as I was at him, I didn't hesitate burying myself into his comforting chest. He caressed the back of my head as I let out a series of small cries, which lead to uncontrollable sobs.

I lifted my head to look at him. "Raoul?"

He removed a strand of hair from my vision. "What is it, Christine?"

I bit my lip. It might be a failed attempt, but I had to at least try.

"Raoul, I want to go to Paris."


	4. 2 PHANTOM

It was simple. I was about to beat them at their own game, and they knew it. With my right eye covered by my cloak and my left eye visible, I watched them wipe the sweat from their brows and their eyes shift from left to right. Thunder rumbled as a man put out his cigar, and the rain began pouring down on the tin roof of the saloon. The lively tune of a piano reached my ears. The place smelled of smoke and blood, and I welcomed it all as I did every day for the past two months.

I laid my cards down and smirked. "Royal flush, gentlemen."

They threw their cards down on the table, pounding their fists and groaning at yet another loss. This was too easy. I chuckled and took in my winnings. I knew exactly what their cards were as I dealt them, all because of a little thing called magic. But of course, that was my personal secret.

A large, burly hand grasped my wrist, and I met the angered gaze of a drunk man.

"He's cheating!" He called out, his speech slurred. His grip tightened on my arm. "There's no way he can win every single game!"

I clenched my jaw. "Do you dare doubt me?" I scoffed. "You know not who I am, nor what I am capable of."

He reached into his pocket with a free hand and pulled out a gun, aiming it at my cloaked face. His arm shook, and a nasty snarl crept onto his face. Gasps filled the air as the man continued with his stance. I pulled back from my chair and started to laugh menacingly, quiet at first but louder as I stood.

I grabbed for my sword, and before he could pull the trigger, I pinned him against the wall, the sharp blade ready to puncture his neck. The gun he once held had now dropped to the floor. I bared my teeth and growled in his face, which was now just mere centimeters from mine. His entire body trembled underneath my power, and his eyes displayed fear and horror toward my now exposed deformity. Lightning struck in the distance, and that's when I heard her.

 _ **It's in your soul that the true distortion lies**_

"Christine.."

Before I knew it, she was there, her voice toying with my mind. It was bittersweet, to say the least. Two months... Had it only been that long?

I blinked and found the man still struggling to get free from my grasp. I stepped back, and he fell to the floor, gasping for air.

"Leave me.." I ordered, and he quickly stumbled out of my sight.

I put my sword back where it belonged and turned, only to be met by the petrified faces of drunken fools. The sole woman present stood and pointed at me, gaping in horror.

 ** _It's him, the Phantom of the Opera!_**

I snarled at the sound of my facade. All it had brought me was pain and sorrow; what else to do except leave it behind? Yet, at every corner I turned and every building I entered, I could never escape from the murderous trail I had made, for the blood that ran still stained.

I flipped my cape and disappeared out of the saloon before chaos could erupt. The large drops of rain hit my face as I made my way through the storm, and the water reminded me of my lair and her: the one I sacrificed my entire life's work for, the one I let my heart fall for, the one I had to give up. Christine Daae, my first and last love.

I looked to the distance as the rain continued to pelt down and could barely see the old stone bridge I had made a temporary home underneath. My newest creations were being born there, but one by one, they remained only in pieces, for I no longer had my angel's voice to complete them.

It was then I noticed where I was. My surroundings were all too familiar. I turned slightly to the right and there it stood in all its eerie shadow. Once the grandest opera house in Paris, it had turned into the scene of a now meaningless tragedy, all because one man's power was threatened and his love challenged. My hand flew to my deformity.

 _ **Christine, Christine**_

 _ **I gave up my life for you**_

 _ **My hopes and dreams were you**_

 _ **My Christine, My Christine**_

 _ **why did you have to go?**_

 _ **I truly did love you so**_

 _ **You saw me for me,**_

 _ **what no one else could do**_

 _ **Not a monster, but a friend to you**_

 _ **Christine, Christine**_

 _ **what I would give to see your face**_

 _ **something even music can't replace**_

 _ **I hope that you are happy**_

 _ **now that you live without me**_

 _ **but Christine, my Christine**_

 _ **one day, please come back to me**_

I collapsed to my knees in the middle of the street and peered up at the sky. What I thought to be raindrops turned out to be warm, salty tears running down my face. For the past two months, I thought I could live with letting Christine go, but when it came down to it, I was more miserable than ever knowing that I couldn't convince her to stay. Just thinking about her ached my heart, and my insanity was tested by that beautiful voice of hers as it never left my mind.

"You foolish damnation!" I cried out into the night before falling back into my fit of distress.

Alas, it was the truth. I was at fault, me and no one else. But now, it was too late, for she had found eternal satisfaction and beauty, two things I wouldn't be able to offer. The faces of Joseph Buquet and Piangi flashed into my thoughts, the last victims caught in my storm of anger. Because of me, those innocent men were dead, countless others were emotionally scarred, and my darling angel was in the arms of a gentleman.

"STOP THE CARRIAGE!"

An odd, accented voice rang into the air, followed by the stomping of hooves and a "Whoa!" from a deeper, more solid voice. I looked towards the noise to find a pair of black horses just a mere five steps in front of me. Before standing, I flipped my hood over my face, prolonging the humiliation that was expected to come. With an umbrella in hand, a strange man stepped out of the carriage, and I came to see that everything about him seemed unusual. His dark blue robe barely reached his knees, while a pair of baggy white trousers fit underneath. A simple black headdress wrapped around his head. I noticed that his skin was darker, an olive tone, as he welcomed me with a smile.

"Pardon us, sir," he began, stepping my way. "We were just on our way to the Opera Populaire."

I turned my gaze back to the opera house. He must not know of the disaster I caused, which made our encounter far much worse.

"Then your trip was pointless," I mumbled, still keeping my distance. From the corner of my eye, I watched his eyebrows scrunch up into a confused expression. My hand wavered steadily over my sword. "It is no longer in use."

I took one step forward when I realized that the rain had stopped. I looked up, only to find the starry sky replaced by his black umbrella. I stared back at him, my face still invisible to his curious eyes.

"At least let me help you," he suggested, showing a dimpled grin.

His gentle nature was getting to me, and I didn't like it. For if I trusted him as I did Christine, he would surely scorn me and my ugliness. And with this in mind, I took one single glance at the Opera Populaire as I slithered by the man. The rain hit me once again, harder than before, and I headed toward my current residence, one of the only places I could show my face without being gawked at or chased. The other, my former private domain, was somewhere I would go to think about my mistakes, hoping that one day I could forgive myself and be forgiven. But, that's not all. The real reason I returned to that opera house every single day was to await my Christine's homecoming.

I pulled back my hood as soon as I was underneath the bridge. I was breathless, but I continued to watch the rain that never seemed to stop. Raindrops dripped down from the stone above me and splattered into a puddle near my feet. Immediately, I saw Christine's face stained with tears, instantly breaking what was left of my heart. I turned toward my musical stand, which was just papers on top of papers in a safe corner near a blanket. Along the sole wall I had were some drawings of Christine I had rescued from my lair. I gently took one of them into my grasp and just stood there, staring as if I were seeing her in the flesh. She was so... beautiful. Definitely a living angel. And in my eyes, she always would be. I remembered her first touch. It was difficult to hold my stature since it took all I had to not whisk her away right then and there. That moment was like a dream... until she removed my mask.

I shook my head. Those things were in the past, and now I could make everything right again. I traced Christine's penciled jawline with my fingertips, and for a split second, I felt human again.


End file.
